Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"shhhhhh" poems
Lust One of those words that turns you Grabs likes and causes comments Lustful Lingering upon lust Requires courage for we can be trapped Inside her endless taunting and tasting Saltiness of you while waves crashing Cause us to linger...lost In the luscious luxury of you Lust... Shhhhhh... We dare not speak your other names *** Passion Pleasure Self satisfaction Sultry sensuous Luxurious lust...
0
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Lusting
BE THY OWN PALACE Seated beside her in the pew her doll listened intently to the Saviour who emerges from the old priest's mouth an ectoplasm of words as He manifests before her. "Is there a doll heaven?" she wonders. Her little mistress however is bored very bored indeed much more interested  in a sunbeam genuflecting before the altar extinguishing the priest's voice. Or the ladybird landing on a lady's foxfur it more jewel than the jewel worn. Picking her nose as the host is held aloft a bird perched upon the left shoulder of the crucifix the Christ a mere cypher how the artist fancied HIm. The crucified man smiling at her despite how boring the sermon is. Sunlight becoming colour travelling through stained glass. Her doll nods off falling at her feet "Shhhhhh!" father scolds both doll and daughter. Doll's head broken in four nothing inside but an emptiness all her thoughts evaporated. The smile still fixed on her porcelain face. Incense like death walking upon the air. The tiny ****** of a bell.
0
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
BE THY OWN PALACE
Laying in bed on my back. My head resting on hands, cushioned. The dark ceiling with a black asterisk in the middle. My windows casting shadows of light across my room. The rain outside silencing me with shhhhhh continuous shhhhhhhhhhhh. Listening closely I hear the lone pitters and single patters. The nearly not noticeable rustling of branches. Tempo of the rain quickening, slowing, quickening- almost like a heartbeat. A drip drip of droplets delving into a puddle. The rushing of a shy, shallow, stream; Its rare gurgles. The ominous bass of thunder, deafening. Natures own orchestra- For me to fall asleep to.
0
May 1, 2011
May 1, 2011 at 5:55 PM UTC
Orchestra
Shhhhhh....... Fewwww....... Vhhoooo....... The blowing wind tells you to be calm... It tells you to be generous with the hard work... And tells you to be strong all the way...
0
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
What Does The Blowing Wind Say
We met in kindergarten Miss Wolfe’s class Into an ear I whisper A shy boy’s bargain I knock on your door Pray the dog Doesn’t **** me Seems like a metaphor Laughter and chasing geese Stealing glances And prances in the woods Sprained ankles in the creek Your moon-drenched family room And our primal need Bodies glide Into foreign feelings I concede We’re both shaving now Not children Yet not men In between and fooling around In my attic bedroom Space Jam soundtrack Hoping my mom doesn’t hear us My hands on your back Then moving down Committing little sins Shhhhhh Don’t make a sound Then the bed of my dad’s truck Some hand stuff Never a **** Never enough You get up and leave I want you to stay I play the radio 97 ZOK Meredith Brooks And I hate the world today Because I’m a ***** But I like me this way Fifteen and fevered Down Mix Street I rollerblade Turn right on Worth My love for you Is such a sad parade Remember when We camped on the lawn Quiet light and secrets Then that wicked dawn Dragging us back Into a world Where our desires Don’t belong We are strangers now With a little bit of everything All rolled into memory Like a sacred vow I’m your hell I’m your dream Do you remember anything? I recall it all Your tousled hair And my forbidden grin I think you live in Wisconsin
0
Sep 1, 2022
Sep 1, 2022 at 11:23 PM UTC
Hedonism Prism
If you ever feel, Like you are an accident, Just close your eyes, And listen to the birds, Tweedle-ee, tweedle-oo, Hear the sway of the leaves, Shhhhhh... shhhhhh, Open your eyes, See the blue sky, The green grass, The fresh air, And remember, You Are Loved. Wanted. Do not give up. Keep pressing on.
0
Mar 5, 2025
Mar 5, 2025 at 9:07 PM UTC
Accident
As I left the house the other day I felt some eyes on me But, I looked around both front and back and no one did I see I had this funny feeling as I walked on down the street They were hidden in the background and were being quite discreet It really did unnerve me to be watched out in the dark But then I found my stalker when I walked down by the park I turned around so quickly and looked up in the trees And there it was , I saw it, sitting staring back at me A pair of eyes were smiling, on a cat , the Cheshire kind When I looked again, I knew again, that this was just my mind I'd had this feeling once before a year or so ago But I'd looked around for someone and that someone didn't show But here I was years later standing, looking in that tree At a cat with eyes wide open, sitting, smiling back at me I said "where did you come from?" and "what is it you want?" "Why choose me to follow, why am I the one you haunt?" He blinked and said "I'm sorry, it's is you that chose to choose" "I'm just here to help your writing, you can say that I'm your Muse" "You see I surface when you need me, to give your ideas a little push" "I help filter out the voices, I'm the one that tells them shhhhhh" "An artist has a model, Lautrec...he had his ****** "Doyle had his ***** and you can say I'm yours" "But why a cat?...of all the things there is for to be chosen" "I don't know he said, maybe your mind was just frozen!" "You must like Lewis Carroll for I'm his , not yours, you know" "And just like back in Wonderland, I know just when to go". "I know when you are stuck on a word or on some prose" "That's when I come and help you, come to help show how it goes" "But, why do you stay hidden, come on now and tell me true" "Who'd believe a tale of talking cats...not me...and I'm sure not you!" "I'm near and then I'm not so close, I come just when I must" "Usually, you're on your own, your thoughts you're best to trust" "To write and share your stories, it takes a leap of faith" "But who'd believe it if you said you got your stories from a wraith?" I thought a bit, and that made sense, there's no way to tell Even though it's madness, they'd condemn me right to hell A Cheshire cat who writes your poems and sits up in a tree Now who would believe that fancy tale ?, certainly not me He said my mind has many thoughts that should be put to paper And his job was to come around when ideas began to taper Poems, and essays, stories, who knows even a book I'd only have to dig deep down, and give my mind a look Before he left I asked him why I'd not seen him before He said to me "truth be told, you've never opened up that door" "You've never crossed the threshold to where your mind gives birth" "To the ideas for all your writing, your imagination hearth" "But now you know I'm here for you and here to help you write" "I'll disappear just like before and I shall say goodnight" "Before you leave I have to say, I'm glad that this was no ruse" "And of the things there is around I'm glad it's you I chose to choose!"
0
May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 5:05 PM UTC
Muse
As I left the house the other day I felt some eyes on me But, I looked around both front and back and no one did I see I had this funny feeling as I walked on down the street They were hidden in the background and were being quite discreet It really did unnerve me to be watched out in the dark But then I found my stalker when I walked down by the park I turned around so quickly and looked up in the trees And there it was , I saw it, sitting staring back at me A pair of eyes were smiling, on a cat , the Cheshire kind When I looked again, I knew again, that this was just my mind I'd had this feeling once before a year or so ago But I'd looked around for someone and that someone didn't show But here I was years later standing, looking in that tree At a cat with eyes wide open, sitting, smiling back at me I said "where did you come from?" and "what is it you want?" "Why choose me to follow, why am I the one you haunt?" He blinked and said "I'm sorry, it's is you that chose to choose" "I'm just here to help your writing, you can say that I'm your Muse" "You see I surface when you need me, to give your ideas a little push" "I help filter out the voices, I'm the one that tells them shhhhhh" "An artist has a model, Lautrec...he had his ****** "Doyle had his ***** and you can say I'm yours" "But why a cat?...of all the things there is for to be chosen" "I don't know he said, maybe your mind was just frozen!" "You must like Lewis Carroll for I'm his , not yours, you know" "And just like back in Wonderland, I know just when to go". "I know when you are stuck on a word or on some prose" "That's when I come and help you, come to help show how it goes" "But, why do you stay hidden, come on now and tell me true" "Who'd believe a tale of talking cats...not me...and I'm sure not you!" "I'm near and then I'm not so close, I come just when I must" "Usually, you're on your own, your thoughts you're best to trust" "To write and share your stories, it takes a leap of faith" "But who'd believe it if you said you got your stories from a wraith?" I thought a bit, and that made sense, there's no way to tell Even though it's madness, they'd condemn me right to hell A Cheshire cat who writes your poems and sits up in a tree Now who would believe that fancy tale ?, certainly not me He said my mind has many thoughts that should be put to paper And his job was to come around when ideas began to taper Poems, and essays, stories, who knows even a book I'd only have to dig deep down, and give my mind a look Before he left I asked him why I'd not seen him before He said to me "truth be told, you've never opened up that door" "You've never crossed the threshold to where your mind gives birth" "To the ideas for all your writing, your imagination hearth" "But now you know I'm here for you and here to help you write" "I'll disappear just like before and I shall say goodnight" "Before you leave I have to say, I'm glad that this was no ruse" "And of the things there is around I'm glad it's you I chose to choose!"
Continue reading...
50
Pushing a stroller as she walked in a hurry She was dressed in clothes that were ***** With hair matted and a face of lines that deeply ran The stroller looked as if it came from a garbage can Hanging from the handles were ***** leather bags Covering something in the seat tattered blankets like rags She approached looking like time had been unkind But in her eyes a glimmering smile was defined I opened my mouth to speak to her And see if I could make a help offer Slowly she lifted her hand and stretched a curved finger “Shhhhhh," she said while over her mouth it did linger Then down she reached for the tattered blanket I knew that spot was special and private She picked up a change purse from the seat Opened it wide as she tried to be discreet She motioned for me to look inside It was full of gold dollars to my surprise She reached in and took out two of them Then grabbed my hand and I knew it was Him All of a sudden a fear came over me A soft voice in the breeze began to speak "Don't be afraid, you know I Am" Then she put the two dollars in my hand When I looked up to thank her Something happened I’ll always remember She and her stroller were gone as if she had never been there At the gold dollars I looked and just stared
0
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 6:17 AM UTC
Two Gold Dollars
I have always had a hunger for words seven years old, I was reading at a college level. I was amazing. A little freak of nature. They said, "Grace, you're so smart" "Grace, you're a genius" "Grace, you're going places in life" but now i'm not so sure because I was extraordinary then but this is high school now and everybody reads at a college level and all of a sudden I don't feel so special anymore. 10 years old I was required to write 13 poems for the "Bluebonnet Young Poet awards" I submitted them but I'm still waiting for the letter that tells me I've won. And so I wrote poetry all through the sixth grade I was threatened and pushed around. but no one could know because if anyone knew they would hurt me worse and so I took the liberty of doing that for them. but there was a boy. isn't there ALWAYS a boy? and I tried to write about him but (shhhhhh) he was a secret and all of the things he did to me were (shhhhhh) (shut up) (be quiet) (don't make a sound) once I was free from him the words poured out of me like a bird released from its cage finally finally finally I could SING. but there was a boy. isn't there always a boy? he let the words come and come and they were about him, always about him. they were beautiful. every day there seemed to be more words about him, for him, to him. it stopped being about my words and always about his but his words were empty so he stopped saying them. I wrote for him and hoped he would see it but I guess he never did because sometimes I still write for him and wonder what he's doing. sometimes people like to tell me that my poetry isn't "appropriate" that it's "too emotional" "too adult" and I shouldn't be writing things like that, am I depressed? who are they, who are any of you, to tell me what I can and cannot feel? who am I, to be standing here, telling you what I feel? I have always had a need for words. it's about time I started treating them right.
0
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 8:28 PM UTC
Words (a slam poem)
I have always had a hunger for words seven years old, I was reading at a college level. I was amazing. A little freak of nature. They said, "Grace, you're so smart" "Grace, you're a genius" "Grace, you're going places in life" but now i'm not so sure because I was extraordinary then but this is high school now and everybody reads at a college level and all of a sudden I don't feel so special anymore. 10 years old I was required to write 13 poems for the "Bluebonnet Young Poet awards" I submitted them but I'm still waiting for the letter that tells me I've won. And so I wrote poetry all through the sixth grade I was threatened and pushed around. but no one could know because if anyone knew they would hurt me worse and so I took the liberty of doing that for them. but there was a boy. isn't there ALWAYS a boy? and I tried to write about him but (shhhhhh) he was a secret and all of the things he did to me were (shhhhhh) (shut up) (be quiet) (don't make a sound) once I was free from him the words poured out of me like a bird released from its cage finally finally finally I could SING. but there was a boy. isn't there always a boy? he let the words come and come and they were about him, always about him. they were beautiful. every day there seemed to be more words about him, for him, to him. it stopped being about my words and always about his but his words were empty so he stopped saying them. I wrote for him and hoped he would see it but I guess he never did because sometimes I still write for him and wonder what he's doing. sometimes people like to tell me that my poetry isn't "appropriate" that it's "too emotional" "too adult" and I shouldn't be writing things like that, am I depressed? who are they, who are any of you, to tell me what I can and cannot feel? who am I, to be standing here, telling you what I feel? I have always had a need for words. it's about time I started treating them right.
Continue reading...
21
you were curling my hair around your fingers and laughing at the shape of them   or maybe you were just laughing at me,          I’m not sure. and then I told you I loved you and you smiled—                   ok that didn’t happen— what happened was you pulled at the curls you just made in your own hands until they weren’t attached to my head anymore.      it didn’t hurt, I think.     and then you put them in your pocket and ran away                                   and then you fell and she picked you up and put you in her pocket and ran away too. then you came back and said whoops, sorry but you still didn’t give me them back          I don’t know if I even want them back. on the way to the place with the people and the things in the car you winked at me or maybe you had something in your eye, but I smiled and you said that’s fine so I cried for a little and then it was just us but I was still scared she was going to put you in her pocket and run away again      but you told me not to worry. and then we were swimming in the pool but then I looked down and it wasn’t a chlorine-colored blue   it was red like the sun at sunset but it wasn’t sunset and there was no sun;       I felt ok but you didn’t and you pulled a knife out from under the pillow—                the one in your room— and that’s when I finally realized you were going to be the one to **** me and I also realized I was ok with it because better you to **** me than some other shmuck, you know?       the only problem was I wasn’t the first one you killed, or it should have been a problem, or rather they all said it was a problem; but it wasn’t. and then we were rolling around in the grass, and I lost an earring and you said whoops, sorry and I kissed you anyway                but you didn’t kiss me back but you pretended to and that was alright so I went with it       but then you didn’t want to go all the way and I was ****** but pretended I wasn’t and then you said shhhhhh and then you grew wings and flew away and left me there for the birds to eat while she grew wings to be with you so you weren’t alone. and then we were sitting on your porch swing and it was swinging slowly and you looked straight into my eyes for hours while I talked about nothing but then you started to talk about something and then I got really happy and then we started swinging so fast that we were in the sky,          but we weren’t, really. and then she stopped the swing and picked you up and put you in her pocket and ran away again.      this time you didn’t come back. then I turned into ***** and told you I was ok with it.                    and then I cried.                and then I woke up.
0
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 1:08 PM UTC
I Had a Dream About You
you were curling my hair around your fingers and laughing at the shape of them   or maybe you were just laughing at me,          I’m not sure. and then I told you I loved you and you smiled—                   ok that didn’t happen— what happened was you pulled at the curls you just made in your own hands until they weren’t attached to my head anymore.      it didn’t hurt, I think.     and then you put them in your pocket and ran away                                   and then you fell and she picked you up and put you in her pocket and ran away too. then you came back and said whoops, sorry but you still didn’t give me them back          I don’t know if I even want them back. on the way to the place with the people and the things in the car you winked at me or maybe you had something in your eye, but I smiled and you said that’s fine so I cried for a little and then it was just us but I was still scared she was going to put you in her pocket and run away again      but you told me not to worry. and then we were swimming in the pool but then I looked down and it wasn’t a chlorine-colored blue   it was red like the sun at sunset but it wasn’t sunset and there was no sun;       I felt ok but you didn’t and you pulled a knife out from under the pillow—                the one in your room— and that’s when I finally realized you were going to be the one to **** me and I also realized I was ok with it because better you to **** me than some other shmuck, you know?       the only problem was I wasn’t the first one you killed, or it should have been a problem, or rather they all said it was a problem; but it wasn’t. and then we were rolling around in the grass, and I lost an earring and you said whoops, sorry and I kissed you anyway                but you didn’t kiss me back but you pretended to and that was alright so I went with it       but then you didn’t want to go all the way and I was ****** but pretended I wasn’t and then you said shhhhhh and then you grew wings and flew away and left me there for the birds to eat while she grew wings to be with you so you weren’t alone. and then we were sitting on your porch swing and it was swinging slowly and you looked straight into my eyes for hours while I talked about nothing but then you started to talk about something and then I got really happy and then we started swinging so fast that we were in the sky,          but we weren’t, really. and then she stopped the swing and picked you up and put you in her pocket and ran away again.      this time you didn’t come back. then I turned into ***** and told you I was ok with it.                    and then I cried.                and then I woke up.
Continue reading...
49
Crying Night You said mean nasty horrible teasing things you didn’t think about what you said to me I turned my back and we sat in silence. The glow of our phones lighting up our faces mine, sad yours, oblivious mine, a way out of our plans tomorrow yours, Facebook scrolling then, the last straw the tip of the iceberg it wasn’t the things he said that night it was everything it was me feeling like I wasn’t good enough our hearts filled not equally mine, full, overflowing, even yours, unsure, you turned to me and tried to make me giggle react laugh at a post I shoved you and the flood gates opened first quietly then raging heavy, breathe taking sobs crying crying then you realized this wasn’t a joke you held me tight and I told you why All of it, and you laid and listened silence shhhhhh you said. shhhhhh you’re okay. shhhh No, No I’m not this isn’t okay. why am I not enough the way I feel is too much I shouldn’t have to hold it all back You’ve turned me into an insomniac
0
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 1:59 AM UTC
Crying Night
Shh Wandering tongues lynch themselves before thoughts can slip into words pupils impregnated by motionless anticipation and the fluttering of flies on the corpses of stomachs don’t stutter don’t stutter don’t stutter shhh Calm let glands spew waterfalls down brows and browse for options yet remain still, remain silent I was always taught to shhhh retreat to familiarity, fermenting in the stagnation of bedrooms and errant thoughts, and regrets, and remembering I don’t think this is going to work out I dont think this relationship is healthy for us I think we should shhhhh close mouths so the belt welts bruise less You are simply fleshwounds to blues and blacks that bubble beneath skin eyes low, chasmic, crimson, grin and giggle follow footsteps to paper faced ledges and the defiant plume of burning leaves Ive grown to love shhhhhh Schwinns and wind, and ballooning confidence headphones hugging haphazard hairs scent of remnant shampoo particles and hungry breath, peppermint camouflage so lips can kiss scars craving solid land while lost in waves of stone distant skin and grin and eye contact Ive grown tired of shhhhhhh winding car rides, surrounded by noise playing the quiet game
0
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
The Quiet Game
These roads are black Burning my souls I’m wishing for direction Perhaps nobody knows They whisper “Nobody Knows...” Shhhhh My stomach feels empty THOUGH IT’S NOT This pacing has me more Lost. Oh, how it’s turning in KNOTS Shhhhh HELP ME Shhhhh I could help me I’m stuck in overdrive I should help me before I end my life Shhhhh I’M STUCK IN OVERDRIVE MY lack of purpose Your picket fence and glory MY broken brain Should I be sorry I AM SORRY Shhhhh Breath, You are worthwhile None of this is real SURE Just another **** pile Farewell to the chaos cheers to the tears Shhhhhh ******* VOICES Inhale - Exhale Inhale - Exhaaaa Inha - Ex————-
0
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 6:53 PM UTC
Exhale
DO YOU WANT THIS THE INN AND OUT DRIVE THROUGH PLUNGE INTO STARS –MY STARS ME- DIPPING UPON YOUR NORTH POLE TO EXCITE AN EXIT OF YOUR MILKY WAY I’M YOUR VENUS YOU ARE MARZ HITTEN ME LIKE -SHOOTING STARS SEND THESE CLOUDS BELOW A HIGH 9 MAKE THE SUN STAY QUIET …….. SHHHHHH SHE IS SLEEPING LEAVING THE FIRE BURNING IN HER SLEEP AS WE WARM UP TO ANOTHER LEVEL OF OUR –STAR CLUSTER AND WE ARE GALAXIES SCREAMING TO A UNIVERSAL SOUL INSERTION STRAIGHT INTO MY GALACTIC STARS YOU –MARZ THE KING OF ALL PLANETS –REVOLVING –CRASH INTO HEAVENLY LOVE WE CAN MAKE ANGULAR MOMENTUM AS MANY AS YOU LIKE YOUR HEAVAN IS COSMIC RAYS UPON MY SMILY SPACE YOU ARE MY ABUNDANT HYDROGEN EMBRACING YOUR GIFTS AND THE HEAVENS SMILE CANDID BUT WILD AND NOW- THE SUN AWAKES SHE AWAKES SWOONING TO OUR COMBUSTIONS HER HEART RACES –WATCHING….. SHHHH –BLUSH AND WE'ER RUNNING WITH SHOOTING STARS SHOOTING UP STAR-WARS SHOOTING INTO ME SHOOTING UP UNIVERSAL ****** (INCREDIBLE INK- TEAM JAGUAR HAWAII) © Copyright 2014 S.T. Parish Rebel of Eden
0
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC
UNIVERSAL ******
It's cold. I can't feel my fingers Or my toes For now Just my extremities are frozen But my frozen fingertips And my frozen feet Are telling me Screaming to me Fall is here! I turn on the heat Take off my clothes And grab a towel Leap in to the tub and With the quick twist of two knobs BLAST Comes the water from the shower head Spitting as hot as it can Steam instantly leaps off of my body And with it my feeling of chill As my vision clouds And the scalding drops Bonce off my skin Heat spreads to every inch of me Tickling As its small feet Travel across my body In the wake of its coming it brings (as it always does) Peace of mind And creative thoughtfulness Alternatively with each step Each tingle Is a piece of ice Leaving me In it's place replaced With warmth And comfort Every second that passes is different Quiet Listen to the million droplets Dive bombing the tile No thoughts. In the next second, A crowd of reporters enter my head Each louder than the last Each trying to make themselves heard "What does the future hold?" "How will you get there?" "What makes a man?" "Are you smart enough?" "Are you strong enough?" "Do you care enough?" "Are you ready for the world?" "Is the world ready for you?" "Are you anything really for it to be ready for at all?" Some are answered Most aren't But all are heard And then in the next second The buzzing crowd leaves for a while And is replaced by the sound of the shower head SHHHHHH Stop worrying SHHHHHH Stop thinking SHHHHHH Just stand and enjoy This heated reprieve From the cold outside
0
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 6:18 PM UTC
Hot Shower
It's cold. I can't feel my fingers Or my toes For now Just my extremities are frozen But my frozen fingertips And my frozen feet Are telling me Screaming to me Fall is here! I turn on the heat Take off my clothes And grab a towel Leap in to the tub and With the quick twist of two knobs BLAST Comes the water from the shower head Spitting as hot as it can Steam instantly leaps off of my body And with it my feeling of chill As my vision clouds And the scalding drops Bonce off my skin Heat spreads to every inch of me Tickling As its small feet Travel across my body In the wake of its coming it brings (as it always does) Peace of mind And creative thoughtfulness Alternatively with each step Each tingle Is a piece of ice Leaving me In it's place replaced With warmth And comfort Every second that passes is different Quiet Listen to the million droplets Dive bombing the tile No thoughts. In the next second, A crowd of reporters enter my head Each louder than the last Each trying to make themselves heard "What does the future hold?" "How will you get there?" "What makes a man?" "Are you smart enough?" "Are you strong enough?" "Do you care enough?" "Are you ready for the world?" "Is the world ready for you?" "Are you anything really for it to be ready for at all?" Some are answered Most aren't But all are heard And then in the next second The buzzing crowd leaves for a while And is replaced by the sound of the shower head SHHHHHH Stop worrying SHHHHHH Stop thinking SHHHHHH Just stand and enjoy This heated reprieve From the cold outside
Continue reading...
70
UNCLE MICHAEL- ALIAS GOD His hands(tobacco stained)     twisted & gnarled knotted like an alive piece of wood scrawled gestures across my mind as the sick calf bucked in his arms & his quiet strength - calmed: 'Shhhhhh... shhhhhhh...suck...suck! ' he crooned & the sound soothed. And the veins(line vines)     ran up & down his arms pumping crude life like a sudden sketch to suggest the gist of rather than the meaning of things. And he walked(& I ran)     towards Granny's garden(like God tending Eden)     & the gate(a little hoarse)sighed at his hand and the leaves murmured (like worshippers in a church congregation)     & the sunlight genuflected through the trees and the trees wore socks & apples. A tablecloth was laid on a loganberry bush. And the young tree gave herself to him broke tenderly in his hand and, the knife whistled & whittled & out of the branch came a man. And he told me(& I believed him 'cos he was good as God & strong)     that the little wooden man(the silent statue)     had been waiting(all the time all ready made)     waiting to be released from his prison of wood. 'All things...'he whispered 'all things are waiting for you to call them.' 'Call them to come out...' 'Awake them...create them...! ' The rhododendrons were blue with amazement -at this revelation a dragonfly walked upon the water. A butterfly became infatuated with a flower. Me...? I watched as his hands talked... ...explaining things that could not be...said. And he took my hand in his and I understood flowed like a little stream into his big river felt God(close)     near at hand and...smiling.
0
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 5:23 PM UTC
UNCLE MICHAEL- ALIAS GOD
UNCLE MICHAEL- ALIAS GOD His hands(tobacco stained)     twisted & gnarled knotted like an alive piece of wood scrawled gestures across my mind as the sick calf bucked in his arms & his quiet strength - calmed: 'Shhhhhh... shhhhhhh...suck...suck! ' he crooned & the sound soothed. And the veins(line vines)     ran up & down his arms pumping crude life like a sudden sketch to suggest the gist of rather than the meaning of things. And he walked(& I ran)     towards Granny's garden(like God tending Eden)     & the gate(a little hoarse)sighed at his hand and the leaves murmured (like worshippers in a church congregation)     & the sunlight genuflected through the trees and the trees wore socks & apples. A tablecloth was laid on a loganberry bush. And the young tree gave herself to him broke tenderly in his hand and, the knife whistled & whittled & out of the branch came a man. And he told me(& I believed him 'cos he was good as God & strong)     that the little wooden man(the silent statue)     had been waiting(all the time all ready made)     waiting to be released from his prison of wood. 'All things...'he whispered 'all things are waiting for you to call them.' 'Call them to come out...' 'Awake them...create them...! ' The rhododendrons were blue with amazement -at this revelation a dragonfly walked upon the water. A butterfly became infatuated with a flower. Me...? I watched as his hands talked... ...explaining things that could not be...said. And he took my hand in his and I understood flowed like a little stream into his big river felt God(close)     near at hand and...smiling.
Continue reading...
52
Incessant insolent innocence lies broken by a bedside. Am i taking psychoactive substances, or am i substantially psychoactive? Puzzling proportions of a mirror lie shattered by my knees. Am i broken? shhhhhh We just want to fix you. Are you broken? HUSH I just want to feel free.
0
Aug 5, 2010
Aug 5, 2010 at 12:00 AM UTC
substantially psychoactive?
Act weird all the time so nobody guesses when you really are "weird". But be silly, not threatening. Master this, how to be funny and weird without scaring people. Anger is for yourself. Don't bother ridding yourself of anger. It isn't possible. Just aim it at yourself to counter the egotism. You are just like everybody else. See how ridiculous they are? So are you. Your best approach? Shhhhhh. Always attempt to be underestimated.
0
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
Instructions for my replacement at the reincarnation factory
Shhhhhh, i wanna hear silent, please, let me hear you. I need to hear myself talking, reprimand, preach. I need myself to preach myself, from the misery that i have created putting myself in a great perfection of depression in the imperfection of human form. Shhhhh, i wanna hear silent, please let me hear you. I need to have a talk with myself, yes, a talk is all i need to bring back the darkness of happiness and put me into the light of sadness. Yes, all i need is to mess with myself. Shhh, silent, where are you??
0
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 3:34 AM UTC
Shut Me
They lay in bed breathing easy breaths of exhaustion with their fingers locking their palms in a gently kiss, his eyes starting deeply into the universe of colors in hers and softly he spoke, “I feel that I have loved you longer than I have known life, longer than I have been... I can’t remember a day or time that my heart did not know or sing your name, I can’t recall a memory that you are not a part of... as if I have loved you from within my mothers womb all the way to this very moment...it’s as if we never meet... as if somehow we just always were.  Tell me, is it true... have you always been here, here in my heart... from it’s very first beat?”, he asked as he moved their hands over the middle of his chest where his heart sang below.  “Or are you just a dream... or am I?  Is any of this real?” “I am not just a dream... I am Dream, I am all dreams... I am the dream of all the stars wishing to be made of flesh and I am the dream of every child wishing they could fly.  I am the dream of every god wishing they were never given names.  I am the dream of the salt and the blood swimming in the sea and I am the dream of every grain of sand and every leaf floating on the wind... and it is all real, as real as you and I, every dream every whispered, every dream sown into every wish... and you... you are more than just a dream... you are my first love and my last love, always, you are the time in every moment of every breath of everything I do... I can not exist or live without you and you do not live without my dream of loving you... and Life is our child, all life, and we give life dreams and love and time and let it run wild and free.  We are tied to each other in mystery and magic and knowing of things that can’t be known or spoken... We exist for an eternity together and then in a moment we are gone and we sleep and we rest and all goes quite and not a thing is dreamt and time does not move or exist while we sleep...” “And what of our love while we sleep?” “It watches over us and keeps us safe.” “Always?” “Always.” “Do we come back... do we wake up again... will we remember?” “Yes and no and yes... you will be Time and I will be Dream again... in the time ahead, and we will live and love and dream and give life to dreams and dreams to life and time and love to both... it will all be different and it will all feel the same and this will and will not be true but it will never be a lie... a new story for a new Dream and a new Time, as there is always a time before now and a time ahead of now... but for now we will rest and sleep and love will keep us safe.” He went to speak again and she gently pushed a finger to his lips and without making a sound Dream said, “shhhhhh... sleep, sleep Time, sleep...” And Dream and Time slept and the time of now was gone and love sighed and sat and watched and yawned knowing what could not be known or spoken and smiled to know that the circle would come round again and Life would be born from Dream and Time and love would be there waiting to be given and shared and lost and found and broken and healed and it would laugh when it could and it would cry when it needed and no matter what, it would always be there as a part of Life and Time and Dream.
0
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC
Dreamweavers End
They lay in bed breathing easy breaths of exhaustion with their fingers locking their palms in a gently kiss, his eyes starting deeply into the universe of colors in hers and softly he spoke, “I feel that I have loved you longer than I have known life, longer than I have been... I can’t remember a day or time that my heart did not know or sing your name, I can’t recall a memory that you are not a part of... as if I have loved you from within my mothers womb all the way to this very moment...it’s as if we never meet... as if somehow we just always were.  Tell me, is it true... have you always been here, here in my heart... from it’s very first beat?”, he asked as he moved their hands over the middle of his chest where his heart sang below.  “Or are you just a dream... or am I?  Is any of this real?” “I am not just a dream... I am Dream, I am all dreams... I am the dream of all the stars wishing to be made of flesh and I am the dream of every child wishing they could fly.  I am the dream of every god wishing they were never given names.  I am the dream of the salt and the blood swimming in the sea and I am the dream of every grain of sand and every leaf floating on the wind... and it is all real, as real as you and I, every dream every whispered, every dream sown into every wish... and you... you are more than just a dream... you are my first love and my last love, always, you are the time in every moment of every breath of everything I do... I can not exist or live without you and you do not live without my dream of loving you... and Life is our child, all life, and we give life dreams and love and time and let it run wild and free.  We are tied to each other in mystery and magic and knowing of things that can’t be known or spoken... We exist for an eternity together and then in a moment we are gone and we sleep and we rest and all goes quite and not a thing is dreamt and time does not move or exist while we sleep...” “And what of our love while we sleep?” “It watches over us and keeps us safe.” “Always?” “Always.” “Do we come back... do we wake up again... will we remember?” “Yes and no and yes... you will be Time and I will be Dream again... in the time ahead, and we will live and love and dream and give life to dreams and dreams to life and time and love to both... it will all be different and it will all feel the same and this will and will not be true but it will never be a lie... a new story for a new Dream and a new Time, as there is always a time before now and a time ahead of now... but for now we will rest and sleep and love will keep us safe.” He went to speak again and she gently pushed a finger to his lips and without making a sound Dream said, “shhhhhh... sleep, sleep Time, sleep...” And Dream and Time slept and the time of now was gone and love sighed and sat and watched and yawned knowing what could not be known or spoken and smiled to know that the circle would come round again and Life would be born from Dream and Time and love would be there waiting to be given and shared and lost and found and broken and healed and it would laugh when it could and it would cry when it needed and no matter what, it would always be there as a part of Life and Time and Dream.
Continue reading...
10
I love Halloween the beginning to the end I can pretend I'm some one else with all my friends Shhhhhh the fall brings something special It's like a gift every year You can't open it, it just appears I love the smell of the Halloween air, The Ghost and Goblins they'll be there I get so excited but so scared I'm dressed like a witch but I don't care I'm all in black with ugly teeth My friend is a ghost wearing a sheet We knock on doors playing trick or treat Better have candy or you have me to meet
0
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 12:51 PM UTC
I Love Halloween
Shhh they'll hear us. They musn't listen to our whispers.. Our silent screams of yearning.. of understanding.. Uneasy? Yes. Nervous? Yes. Scared? YES. Shhh! I told you I know not all the rules to this game, but I am trying to play fair. Rather be hurt than hurt. Remeber that? What of that? "Well" you are saying.. "run to me" ...you beckon.. Tempted. I started on my way.. Torn. I stopped abruptly. Turned... and then... A glance back.. NO! Just keep walking away and don't look back. Walk? No.. Run. Straight ahead.. into the dead of night to the warmest arms you've ever had with the coldest emotion. At once all is still.. silent.. breathless.. Safe. Yes safe.. Sadly comfortably safe. Just smile.
0
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 1:32 PM UTC
Shhhhhh. (Sorry mind of a lost stranger)
Have you ever had a secret? One you swore would destroy you A secret that was deadly… The ones that you kept it from Would surely banish you forever… If they ever knew the truth… Have you ever felt your soul crack? From the lies you’ve told You wish you had a truckload of super foam just To put out fires from the bridges you have burned… Have you ever felt the loneliness? Inside a crowded room Wondered why you were crying While all the others still smiled… When the darkness takes over Never does it matter where you are A beautiful day becomes very bleak The clouds they never part… Have you ever wondered? If your smile was gone forever Will you always feel the ache Of betraying your own heart… You can never tell him He must never know Have you wonder if you will Ever feel the smile again upon your face… Have you ever wondered if you have to tell Is it true in effort to fix your busted heart Must you expose your soul And break his apart Just so you can lift the darkness And mend the broken cracks… I say its better Just to keep it Shhhhhhh!!!
0
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 8:53 AM UTC
Shhhhhh...... Have You Ever?
Time stop Gentle breeze Lips tremble Palms Sweaty Eyes Froze Words are missing So everything went silent We are planted in one another's mind what are they thinking What should I say to her? What should I say to him?[] Now eye contact Touch my hand feel you shiver I take deep breath but don't say a word I reach for your cheek, touching your flawless face You take a step closer I hold you You pierce my heart with you smile and melt it You try to talk I shhhhhh you and press my heart on your chest so you can hear It speak your heart melts by mine... This is what words can't explain This is powerful It's so strong I don't know the words to use I can't tell if they are the right word Perhaps time have stopped I have enough time to tell you, to tell you I Love You
0
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC
I Love You
You seem so prim, so proper on the outside, sweet & sugarcoated, yummy. You float around the room like a sweet butterfly, everybody just loves your pretty innocence. But behind closed doors, you're downright vixenish, not really rude, but crude, the kind of crude that makes a man blush. Shhhhhh, hush, I'm not in a rush...... that's it.... ride..... right there.... uuuuuhh, O Darling push, make my face turn red!
0
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC
You Make a Man Blush